Page 31 of Between Flames and Deceit (Dragon’s Heart Duology #1)

Chapter Thirty

Nienna

T he crumbs on the platters had dwindled to almost nothing, and the pitcher of mead had been filled and drained three times before we decided it was time for bed.

Satisfaction thrummed through me. My shoulders felt unburdened, and laughter escaped without regard for propriety. Beneath the table, my right leg had engaged in a mock battle with Kallias, our playful jabs escalating as the evening deepened.

At some point, the skirmish ended, our feet entangling in a quiet truce. His teasing gaze darkened, pleasure lurking in those depths. The sight of him at ease—his mask of regal composure replaced by the warmth of shared companionship—stirred something restless in my chest. A flutter low in my belly, both unnerving and exhilarating.

“Mark my words, one day those four-legged carpets will be the salvation of Radaan!” Claydon declared, waving his book for emphasis before slipping a ribbon between its pages.

“If goats are your saviors, Radaan is in worse trouble than I thought,” I shot back with a smirk.

“That’s a job for your dragons, Draconis,” Kallias murmured, his voice slipping through me like smoke, sending warmth straight to my core.

“Ah, you’re right!” I sprang forward as if struck by revelation. “They will be the salvation because dragons need to eat! ”

Claydon staggered back a step, one hand flying to his chest as if hit by an invisible blow. “The audacity!” he exclaimed, his voice dripping with exaggerated offense.

Kallias, unamused, shifted beside me and nudged my boot with his. The subtle gesture was firm enough to catch my attention but discreet enough to avoid notice. It carried an unspoken reprimand, yet the touch sent a sudden, searing warmth spiraling up my leg, settling somewhere beneath my ribs. My lips twitched in betrayal, fighting the urge to grin, but the trace of heat lingered, an uninvited thrill that tangled with the moment.

“Nienna, Clay’s heart isn’t as young as it used to be. Have mercy on the poor man,” Gayle chided, mirth shaking her shoulders as she placed a hand on her husband’s arm.

Claydon spun toward her, feigning insult. “Are you implying I’m old?”

“And aging like a fine wine, dear.”

The table dissolved into laughter. I glanced around, soaking in the scene. Tipo and Poppy murmured in a world of their own, their foreheads nearly touching. Greaves chuckled beside me, his voice a low rumble. Will busied himself tidying the remnants of our meal, interjecting the occasional remark.

“Now, speaking of age—I’d hate to be a terrible host.” Gayle rose, brushing imaginary crumbs from her lap. “As much as I’d love to linger, it’s been a long day for all of us, and an even longer one for you three.”

Claydon stood, offering her his hand as she said, “I’ll take the princess to her room.”

I glanced at Kallias who studied me with hooded eyes. My heart pounded, and my ears burned at the intensity of his gaze.

“Shall I assist you, Your Highness?” Poppy asked, perking up from her chair.

“Please no,” I managed through a strained laugh. “I can manage tonight.”

The prospect of quiet solitude had nothing to do with the hope that the king might find his way to my chambers later. Not at all.

“If you need anything, ring the bell, and I’ll be there in a flash!” Poppy settled back into her seat, eyes sparkling with readiness.

Kallias stood, stretching his body, every movement deliberate, a display of controlled strength. My throat dried as his crooked smile held my gaze. He saw me watching, lusting after him, and reveled in it.

Behind me, he slid my chair back, his thumb grazing the bare skin of my shoulder. A shiver ran down my spine at the contact. Tilting my head, I caught his eye and smirked. His gaze lingered on my face, then dropped lower, tracing the curve of my chest.

“Thank you,” I murmured, my voice silkier than intended. Did I arch slightly, offering him a better view? Maybe .

His throat bobbed. Satisfied, I lowered my head, letting my hair shield the grin tugging at my lips. There was power in being desired, and even more in knowing the desire came from a king.

Claydon’s voice broke the moment. “Greaves, I’ve a few blades to show you in the morning. A blacksmith’s been tinkering with a new ore. I’d like your opinion on the edges.”

He rubbed Gayle’s shoulder before stepping away, leaving the room to dissolve into goodbyes and the promise of stolen moments yet to come.

I drifted past Kallias, the heat from his body brushing my arm as I veered toward Gayle.

“With Kallias–”

“Permission,” Kallias interrupted, dismissing his guard with a wave. His tone carried an easy authority that made me laugh. “Which I wholeheartedly give. Go, Greaves. I’ll manage just fine.”

“Kal, there was an assassination attempt,” the man groaned, his chair scraping as he stood.

“You come to my table armed?” Claydon’s voice was steeped in mock hurt. “Then insinuate I cannot protect my own guests!”

“Triple the guards,” Greaves sighed, defeated. “And only the morning.”

Gayle slipped her arm through mine, winking as she tugged me out of the room. “Success!” she whispered.

I glanced over my shoulder, catching Kallias watching me. His smoldering gaze and wicked smile promised things I could hardly name before the door clicked shut behind us.

“That was your plan?” I asked, raising a brow.

“Oh yes,” she said, nodding. “Greaves deserves a break. He’ll worry himself sick over the king, of course, but both men need their space.”

“Kallias could order him away.”

Gayle hesitated, then smirked knowingly. “And you know this how?”

“If he wanted to,” I corrected, cursing the mead that loosened my tongue.

“Peace, child.” She patted my hand with a chuckle. “He could, but he wouldn’t. Greaves has been by his side since boyhood. He would never dismiss him.”

Except when he desired stolen words. Or kisses.

“It’s been nearly two years since they’ve had a reprieve,” Gayle mused, leading me through the halls. “This will be good for both of them.”

“Kallias takes his duty seriously,” I agreed. “As does Greaves.”

Her sidelong glance spoke volumes, but she let the comment hang. Silence settled between us, broken only by her quiet humming as we walked. Paintings of vibrant flowers and sweeping mountain sunsets lined the corridor. I paused at one that depicted a cluster of goats nestled in the hills, their shaggy forms almost hidden in the vibrant brushstrokes. Another painting. Another goat.

Laughter bubbled up as realization struck. “They’re everywhere,” I said, pointing.

Gayle joined in my mirth. “Yes, he truly loves the Kuh’lir.”

We turned a corner into a familiar hall, and she opened the door to my chambers.

“It’s been a lovely evening,” I said. “Thank you for welcoming me into your kitchen.”

“You’re good for him.”

Her quiet words stopped me in my tracks. My heart lurched to my throat, and I fought to paste a smile on my face.

“Come,” she said, shutting the door before settling on a sofa. She patted the cushion beside her. “Sit.”

Sun above, what had I let slip? Did she know about our feet? Had Greaves told her anything? I shoved my fear deep inside, pushing it away as I sat.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” I began, unsure of where this was heading.

Her lips pressed together in a sad smile, her eyes heavy with sorrow. “It’s been quite some time since I’ve seen him that relaxed. You should know something about him.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but the words stuck. Whatever she was about to share felt too personal—too familiar, as if she already knew our secrets.

“I saw the way he looks at you. And how you look at him.” Her hands, warm and steady, wrapped around my clammy ones. “He hasn’t had an easy life. His path has always been hard, and I fear it always will be.”

She paused, and the silence between us seemed to grow heavier.

“He was just a boy when his parents died. Barely a man, and the weight of Radaan was thrust upon him. He faced war, but instead of retreating, he rode to the front. He led our people against the Velli for years. A lesser king would have buckled beneath the pressure, but Kallias stood firm in negotiations. He wouldn’t bow to Vellos’ demands. Some still resent him for that, but he knew what was best for his kingdom.”

She paused again, her expression darkening.

“And he did it all with Eldeiade at his back.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“You knew her?” I asked, my voice low.

“Unfortunately, yes. And I hid from that vile witch.”

I blinked, confusion tightening my features. “What do you mean?”

“She was feared by the people, hated even. Her words were poison. The way she treated the king—it was shameful. We only went to court when Kallias returned, to show him our support. She called him back once a month—and we all understood why. She wanted one thing from him: an heir to use as a weapon against him.”

She shook her head, her face tight with distaste.

“And still, he shouldered that burden without complaint. The poor man was broken inside, but he upheld his honor. Every time, he returned to her summons.”

Her raw disdain cut through my discomfort. “Why are you telling me this?” I asked.

“Because,” she said, tears glimmering in her eyes, “I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you.”

“I assure you–”

“Please, let an old woman ramble,” she interrupted, her voice firm. “There have been no rumors, worry not. But if he has even the smallest chance at happiness with you, I’ll do everything in my power to help.”

“I am betrothed to his son.” The words tumbled out, jagged and desperate. She couldn’t say those things out loud. I couldn’t hear them. My ears burned with treason.

She paused, her shoulders sinking under the weight of my denial. “Can it not be rewritten? There’s no love between you and Tallon— that is no secret.”

“No,” I said, my voice cold. “The treaty was signed by Nereus, Dragon King of Draconia and King Kallias of the Plentiful Plains. His own blood sealed the oath, promising his son to me.”

Her expression dimmed, sorrow etched into her features. Rising, she smoothed her skirts with trembling hands. “Then let me say this. Kallias deserves more than what life has given him. Here, you are free to act as you will— choose who you will—and in turn, I will remain silent.”

My mouth fell open, but she didn’t wait for a reply before sweeping across the room and out the door.